T is for Temptation
by leaptad
Summary: Oneshot set during Don and Charlie's junior year of high school


Charlie started as a short, angry burst from Don's car horn pierced his ears. He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, snatching a piece of toast his mother had just finished buttering. "Bye," he muttered, giving her a peck on the cheek as he turned towards the door.

"Take some for your brother!" she said, stuffing more slices of toast into his hand. He had to reach out with the other one to keep from dropping them.

There was another car horn blast, this one longer and even more impatient. Charlie threw himself in the general direction of the driveway before his mother got any ideas about putting jelly on the toast.

Don was sitting in the driver's seat wearing a backwards-facing baseball cap. His wrist rested casually on the top of the steering wheel. The car had been a birthday present of sorts. His parents had paid for half, plus half of the insurance, and Don had paid for the rest. Driving his younger brother to school, however, had not been part of the arrangement. But when the school board decided that the best thing for Charlie would be to advance several grades, making him a 12-year-old high school junior, and putting Don and Charlie in the same grade, it quickly became a condition of him getting the car.

"You brought your baseball stuff?" Charlie asked, indicating a large duffle bag on the floor of the back seat.

"I have practice after school today," Don replied. He pulled the car out of the driveway. Don was purposefully not making eye contact with him. The resentment Don felt toward Charlie at that moment hung in the air so thick that it was almost palpable.

"And how am I supposed to...?"

"Wait or take the bus home," Don said shortly.

Charlie nodded. He'd wait. They both knew he'd wait. He'd sit in the stands and do his homework and watch Don play.

"Where are we..." Charlie began as Don turned right. It was a rhetorical question and Don didn't bother answering. They both knew where he was going.

Don pulled into the driveway in front of Paul's house and blew the horn again. Charlie wasn't 100 sure it was really okay to be making this much noise this early in the morning, but he didn't really feel like Don wanted his input on the matter.

Paul emerged after a few minutes. He was tall, taller than Don, and had the same athletic build. He was good looking, a star athlete, Don's best friend, and he had roughly the IQ of a piece of lettuce. Spending extended periods of time with Paul, especially in a confined space, was not Charlie's idea of a good time.

Paul walked to the passenger side and wrenched open the door. "Back seat!" he barked at Charlie. In no position to argue, Charlie scampered out and pushed the seat forward to climb in the back. "Breakfast!" Paul exclaimed, delighted. He snatched the toast out of Charlie hand. Charlie turned around to protest, looked up into Paul's face and decided to let it go. He meekly climbed into the back, rearranging Don's baseball equipment to make some room.

Paul was just looking for a reason to torture Charlie. Charlie decided not to give him one.

Paul handed a couple of slices to Don and they began to eat as Don headed towards the school.

Don maneuvered the car into one of the student parking spaces. Paul opened his door and got out, but instead of waiting for Charlie to climb out from the back, he slammed the door in Charlie's face. Charlie reached forward and grabbed the door handle. It moved easily in his hand, accomplishing nothing.

"Oh, sorry," Paul said with fake sincerity through the open window to him, "the child locks must be on. Can't open the door from the inside." He grinned slyly back at Charlie.

"What's up?" Don called. He was already halfway across the parking lot. "You coming?"

"Charlie's having a little trouble getting out of the car," Paul called back. "You go ahead, I'll help him."

Don shrugged and jogged towards the main entrance. Panic began to claw at Charlie's chest. Something was very, very wrong here. Paul leaned against the car, his face looking very large and imposing. "I think you're gonna have to crawl out the window," he said.

"That's okay," Charlie snapped, trying to sound calm. The last thing he wanted was for Paul to realize how scared he was. "I'll just climb out this way."

Charlie tried to reach the lever to tilt the driver's seat forward, but Don's equipment was in the way. He grabbed the duffle bag, trying to haul it over him, but it was heavy, and the angle was awkward. Charlie slid closer to the passenger door, bracing his back against the window frame and pulled on the bag's straps.

Paul's arm clamped across his chest like a vice, and his other hand jammed Charlie's head down as he pulled Charlie through the open window. The baseball equipment slipped from Charlie's fingers. Charlie kicked his legs out, trying to find purchase on anything at all, but Paul heaved him out of the car easily.

People were gathering, cheering on Paul, laughing. Charlie kicked and wrenched his body violently, but his slight build was no match for the hours that Paul had spent working on his muscles. Paul told someone to open the trunk. Charlie fought back harder, but it was all useless. The gaping mouth of the car's trunk was in front of him, and then he was inside.

It was dark and crowded and he was alone. It smelled like mildew. Like someone had left the trunk open in the rain. He neck ached from being manipulated so forcefully. Outside, he could hear the muffled laughs and caterwauls of the other kids. One of them banged on the trunk a few times. He waited for someone to let him out.

The laughter began to taper off. He heard footsteps moving away from the car. People were leaving. For the second time, panic began to rise up from his stomach into his throat. They had to let him out. They just had to.

"See you later, kid" Paul sang to him, gleefully. There was the crunch of gravel as he left. And then there was nothing.

If the bell for first period had already rung, then the parking lot would be deserted. At least until the kids started ditching and headed out the door. But even then, no one would think about him here in the trunk. How long was he going to be in here? An hour? All day?

Charlie didn't have a class with Don until third period Chemistry, so Don might not even know he was missing until then. Unless Paul had already told Don what he did and Don had chosen to let him stay here. Surely not. Don wouldn't possibly let him rot here. He just had to hold out until third period and then someone would come get him. He wondered how hot it would be in this trunk in two hours.

Charlie shifted slightly to try and get more comfortable. He had often consoled himself over the years by reminding himself that while he would be able to do anything with his life that he chose, Paul's life was going to continually get worse following high school graduation. He was going to end up one of those pathetic old guys, sitting in a recliner, drinking beer, watching baseball, and recounting his glory days in high school. He would end up bitter and alone. He would never be able to get into college with his grades, so he'd probably be middle-aged and working in fast food. Charlie always imagined himself successful, rich, possibly famous, at least in the math community, walking into a Burger King and having Paul ask him if he wanted fries with that.

But something like this deserved immediate retribution. Charlie didn't want to wait 20 years or so for Paul's humiliation. He wanted it now. He wanted Paul to get a healthy spoonful of his own medicine.

Something obvious would be easy and probably wouldn't require much bravery. A good pants-ing in the middle of the cafeteria at lunchtime. A hit and run attack. But, of course, there was always the very real possibility that Paul would laugh it off when it happened and then pummel Charlie at a later time.

No, it had to be something bigger. Something Paul wouldn't see coming. Something that Paul would have to carry around with him. Something that would make the inevitable pummeling worth it.

Playing the "little kid" card seemed perfect. He could see it.

The trunk door would open, and there would be the principal standing there along side Don. Charlie would blink a couple of times in the garish sunlight and then allow Don to help him out of the car, pretending to be weakened from dehydration. Don would deposit him on the ground, and his knees would buckle, just slightly.

The principal would kneel down next to him and ask, his face full of concern, "Son, do you know who did this to you?"

And that's when he would turn on the waterworks. He'd wipe the tears away with the back of his hand, pretending to be embarrassed to be crying. "P-P-P-Paul," he would stutter.

Oh, and Valerie would have to be there too. Sure. She would come with Don when he realized Charlie didn't show up in chemistry class. She was his lab partner after all.

So, there he would be, blubbering away. Valerie would come and give him a big hug, maybe even a kiss. Paul had asked Valerie out no less than three times and had been summarily turned down every time.

Charlie imagined that they'd probably want to send him home for the rest of the day on account of the trauma he had gone through. But he would refuse, saying that he could handle it. His bravery in the face of something like this would completely make up for having cried. He would dry his tears and put on his most stoic face. Valerie would probably still insist he go home, but he wouldn't relent, which would impress her. And it would probably impress Don, too. He would realize that his little brother was one tough cookie after all.

He would march to class. He would pass Paul in the hall, who was on his way to the principal's office. Paul would get chewed out. Probably suspended. Maybe expelled, but that was really stretching it. More importantly, though, everyone would hate him. The girls would think he was a monster. The boys would think he was a jerk. Even Don would stop being his friend. Paul would be ostracized. He might even switch schools because of it.

Charlie realized he was smiling. That was definitely the plan. A clicking noise pulled him out of his daydream.

A key was inserted into the trunk's lock. Don opened the door and looked down at Charlie. "You okay?" he said, reaching in to help Charlie out. Don was alone.

"I'm okay," he muttered. He stretched a few times. "Paul..." he started.

"Yeah, well, you know he likes to pick on you. So next time, you know, be more aware," Don said. "Come on."

Charlie walked with Don back to the building. "You want me to walk you to class?" Don asked. Charlie shook his head. "Okay," was all Don said as he jogged down the hall.

Charlie turned and headed to his first period class, French. He hated that class. He passed by principal's office and paused. The principal was sitting behind his desk writing on a piece of paper. He looked up and, seeing Charlie, came around and opened his door. "You need anything, Charlie? Why aren't you in class?" he asked.

Now was the time. He had missed his big scene in the parking lot, but he could still tell the principal what happened and surely Paul would get into some sort of trouble.

After a second, Charlie replied, "Just car problems."

The principal nodded. "Okay, well..." he said. He grabbed a pad off his desk and scribbled on it, handing the note to Charlie. "Here, give this to your teacher so you won't be counted as tardy."

"Thanks," Charlie muttered. He turned and continued down the hallway.

Don would probably actually respect him for not telling on Paul. If he got Paul into trouble, Don would probably just be mad at him. So, once again, Paul got away with it. Charlie could still turn around. Could still tell the principal what happened. He wasn't going to, but, oh, the temptation...


End file.
